One Touch
by Ash M. Knight
Summary: Emma is in therapy, and Regina Mills is her therapist. Eventually SwanQueen. Warning: this story contains mature themes that may be triggering to some individuals.
1. Chapter 1: The Problem

**WARNING: This story contains themes such as self-harm and child abuse that may be triggering for some individuals. This is pretty much a crackfic. I know it would never happen, so just suspend your disbelief for me while you read this. There will eventually be some SwanQueen action.**

* * *

The classroom door creaked open and the principal walked into the room wearing a look of distaste. Her eyes scanned the room for the student she was searching for, and when she found the girl, she raised her chin slightly and looked down at her.

"Miss Swan, I'll see you in my office now."

The young blonde nodded weakly and her eyes fell to her desk as she collected her notebooks and pencils.

"Yes, ma'am," she mumbled.

"What was that, Miss Swan?"

"I said, 'Yes, ma'am,'" the girl repeated, her voice ringing clear this time.

The principal stood outside the classroom, waiting for the girl to gather her things. When the girl met her in the hallway, they were both silent as they walked to the main office.

"Please don't disturb us until we are finished our meeting, Miss Murray," the principal instructed.

The secretary nodded stiffly in understanding and said, "Yes, Mrs. Kelley."

The student and the principal both entered the office and shut the door behind them. Inside, the guidance counselor waited, sitting in a chair beside the principal's enormous desk.

"Mrs. Malone," the principal greeted her, sitting down behind the desk and turning to the girl who had just sat down across from them. "Emma," she began. "We've discovered something troubling that we need to discuss with you."

The girl swallowed hard, her palms collecting sweat as she pulled her long sleeves down over her wrists, anxiously shifting in her seat. She already knew what they were going to say.

"It has been brought to our attention by a concerned, anonymous student that you have been self-mutilating - specifically, that you have been cutting yourself," Mrs. Malone, the guidance counselor, interjected. "Is this true?"

"No," Emma lied, wringing her hands and shifting her weight in the chair again.

"Then I suppose you won't mind showing us your wrists?" the principal pressed.

"You have no right," Emma protested. "I don't have to show you."

"This is a private school, Miss Swan. You do indeed have to show us."

They both stood up and took a step towards her, and Emma felt her stomach fall to the floor. She wanted to run, to escape to some alternate reality where her life was different. As she looked down at the floor, her hair fell into her eyes.

"Miss Swan."

Reluctantly, she pulled her sleeves up to reveal numerous red, swollen slices across each of her wrists and forearms.

"We're calling your parents in, and you'll be mandated to go to counseling for the remainder of the year," the principal informed her matter-of-factly.

"Please don't tell them!" Emma cried, jumping out of her seat. "Please! They'll... They'll..."

"Sit down, Miss Swan," the guidance counselor ordered her.

She obeyed and covered her face with her hands as she started to cry. 45 minutes later, her foster parents arrived at the school and entered the office, each taking a seat on either side of Emma.

"Your daughter has been cutting herself, Mr. and Mrs. Russell, and if you want her to stay in school here, she will need to to participate in weekly counseling sessions with a licensed professional."

"They're not my parents!" Emma interrupted.

"Emma," Mrs. Russell hissed quietly, shooting her a threatening look.

"Do you have names of any counselors in the area?" Mr. Russell asked calmly, but his hands were gripping the arms of the chair to tightly his knuckles had turned white, and he was very nearly gritting his teeth.

"I do, yes," Mrs. Malone told him. "There's a Doctor Mills here in town who recently began her own practice. She's very young, but already has a wonderful reputation here. She specializes in this sort of... problem..."

"I don't want to go to therapy," Emma protested, panic-stricken.

"We're leaving, Emma," her foster mother said plainly, glaring at her, grabbing her sore wrist, and dragging her out of the office and back to the car.

"You little bitch," Mr. Russell cursed, gripping the steering wheel as his wife sat down beside him. "You ungrateful little-"

"How could you possibly do such a thing?" Mrs. Russell asked coldly. "We feed you, care for you, clothe you... What more could you possibly want from us?"

"You don't fucking care for me!" Emma screamed. "You practically starve me and beat me!"

Mrs. Russell whipped around in her chair and slapped the girl hard across the face.

"Shut up, you ungrateful piece of shit."

Emma started to sob.

"Please, don't make me go to therapy," she begged, reaching up and touching the red spot on her face where she'd been hit.

"Oh, you're going," Mr. Russell informed her. "We pay good money for you to go to this school, and we intend to uphold our reputation, and you are NOT going to get in the way of that. Do you understand?"

He turned and looked toward the back seat of the car and glared at Emma.

"Y-yes, Sir."

He turned back around and started the car, and they drove back to the house in silence.

A week later, Emma found herself alone in the waiting room of a counseling office. Her foster parents had dropped her off, instructing her to take the bus home on her own. She thought about running, but she knew they would know. There was no way out. She simply had to suck it up and wait it out.

"Miss Swan?" a soft voice asked, coming from a woman who had just appeared in the doorway to the waiting room.

Emma nodded and stood up, awkwardly shifting her weight from one foot to the other until the woman spoke again. She didn't actually look all that much older than Emma, who was a junior in high school.

"Come on in, Emma."

The blonde followed her into her office and sat down in a large, comfortable chair across from the counselor's.

"Why do I have to do this?" Emma asked the woman.

"Because you hurt yourself," the therapist answered.

She looked directly into Emma's eyes, which made the girl uncomfortable. She averted her gaze and noticed the tissue box on the coffee table between them.

"Do people usually cry in your office?" she asked.

"Sometimes."

"Why do you do this?"

"Because I want to help people," Doctor Mills replied. "I want to help you, too, Emma."

The girl shook her head and wrung her hands.

"I don't need help."

"You don't think so?"

"No."

A moment of silence passed between them, until Emma looked up again.

"How old are you? You look like you just got out of college."

"I did," Doctor Mills shrugged. "Your parents told me you stayed back a grade. They said you got suspended multiple times for getting into fights - nearly expelled - and missed too much school to make it up."

"Yeah, so?"

"So it must be hard being the only one to have stayed back."

"I'm not," Emma retorted angrily. "There's other kids who've had to stay back."

"Really?"

"No," Emma mumbled.

Doctor Mills wanted to laugh, but she held it in.

"Alright. Tell me, why did you feel the need to lie, just then?"

"I don't know. Embarrassed, I guess. You're right. It sucks being the only one. It's embarrassing. Everyone looks at me funny, like I'm a total freak."

"Do you still get into fights?"

"Sometimes," Emma said, shrugging. "Kids just kind of stare and call me names, but I usually ignore it now. The last thing I want is to get suspended and have my foster parents... um..."

"Have them what, Emma?"

"Nothing," she muttered. "I just don't want them to be disappointed in me."

Doctor Mills looked skeptical, picking up on the lie. The mark on Emma's face gave her a clue as to what she might have wanted to say, but she didn't press the issue. She knew how sensitive Emma was and decided not to push any buttons.

"Okay," she said softly. She was quiet for a while, and when she realized Emma wasn't going to talk, she said, "I want you to know that this is all confidential. Nothing you say in here is going to be told to anyone else - unless I feel that you're a danger to yourself or others, or that you're... if I suspect you're being abused. I'm mandated by law to report that. Do you understand, Emma?"

Emma looked shocked, but she nodded weakly.

"Uh-huh."

"I want you to understand that you can tell me anything you want to."

The blonde said nothing.

"Why do you cut?" her therapist asked, shifting in her seat and crossing her legs, resting her clipboard on her lap and setting her pen down on top of it.

"Because I hate myself, and I deserve it."

"No one deserves that, Emma."

"I do."

"No one does," Doctor Mills repeated.

"How do you know what I deserve?" Emma asked bitterly.

"Because, like I said, _no one _deserves to go through what you're going through now."

"They hate me, you know."

"Who hates you?"

"Mr. and Mrs. Russell. They hate me."

"What makes you say that, Emma?"

_They beat me, _she was desperate to say, but she kept her mouth shut.

"Emma," Doctor Mills repeated. "What makes you say that?"

"They just do."

"Alright."

They both looked at the clock at the same time - Emma had been glancing at it every few minutes - and they realized the session was just about over.

"We can talk about whatever you want next week, okay, Emma?" Doctor Mills told her. "It doesn't have to be about cutting, or your foster parents, or school. It can be anything you want."

Emma nodded, feeling surprised and grateful.

"Thank you, Doctor Mills."

"You can call me Regina."


	2. Chapter 2: Strength

The next week, Emma's spirits were lower than ever. She was exhausted from the beatings and constant monitoring from teachers. Each day, they checked her wrists for new marks. Luckily for her, they never checked her thighs. As she waited in the counseling office, she looked down at her phone, staring at the clock. She still had three minutes before her appointment began. What was she going to talk about? She seriously considered trying to be silent for the entire time, but she knew that would be utterly unproductive. She had to think of something, but there wasn't anything she wanted to talk about. In fact, she didn't even want to be there.

When the doctor appeared in the doorway and greeted her, she was almost surprised to be torn from her thoughts. She still hadn't come up with anything to say. As she walked down the hallway to the doctor's office, she imagined herself walking to her own death and realized just how appealing that could be.

"How are you today?" the doctor asked, smiling softly at her.

"I'm fine," Emma muttered, looking down. "I want to kill myself."

She heard the words slip from between her lips and reached up with both hands to cover her mouth. Even her therapist looked startled.

"I didn't... I didn't mean that. I just..."

"Emma, it's okay," Regina soothed. "We're just talking, alright? Just talking."

Emma took deep, heavy breaths and gripped the arms of the chair.

"Don't you have to report that?"

"Only if I feel you're a danger to yourself. How long have you been thinking about suicide?"

"A long time. I guess I'm just scared to go through with it. I've never really had a plan, though. Like I said, I'm too chickenshit to actually do it. I'm a coward."

"That doesn't make you a coward, Emma. It makes you strong."

"I'm not strong," she said, looking down. "I'm weak."

"You've gotten through a lot. You've faced a lot of pain, and it's made you stronger."

Emma sighed and looked up.

"Therapists are always so full of bullshit."

"You think that I'm full of bullshit?"

Somehow, this suddenly sounded mean, and Emma regretted saying it. She was also surprised to hear the doctor swear.

"No, I just meant..."

"It's okay," Regina said, smiling. "I understand how this must feel. I've been through therapy, too, you know."

"You have?"

Emma looked intrigued, and her therapist nodded.

"Absolutely. It was difficult at first, but it helped. It was hard for me to adjust to that kind of environment."

"What do you mean?"

"The kind of environment where I could be safe to talk about anything," Regina answered seriously.

"I don't feel like I could ever be safe to talk about the things that go on in my head."

"I know," the woman told her, "but hopefully you will, soon."

Emma shrugged, not believing her words. It didn't seem like anyone could ever really understand what she was going through. Then again, the doctor didn't seem to be judging her - at least not so far.

"Maybe," Emma mumbled.

"I hope so."

The rest of their conversation was relatively bland - mostly small talk about school. Emma avoided the topic of her parents when the doctor gently pressed her for deeper information, and she refused to discuss the self-harm. Still, Emma found the conversation relaxing. She could say what she wanted. She even cursed a few times, which didn't seem to phase Regina. Emma liked being able to express her anger, but she still held most of her emotions back, checking herself each time she was tempted to let her deeper feelings out. When the session was over, though, she found herself slightly disappointed. This made her uncomfortable, since she hadn't wanted to enjoy their meeting. In fact, she'd expected to loathe the experience completely, but she came to the conclusion that it wasn't all bad, and she even looked forward to their next appointment.

"I'll see you Friday, okay, Emma?"

The girl nodded.

Before their next visit, as Emma sat in the waiting room, the heel of her foot bounced up and down anxiously, and her palms had begun to sweat. When the doctor came to greet her, she noticed instantly.

"Come on in, Emma." When they reached the office and both sat down, Regina continued with, "Are you alright? You seem very anxious."

Emma looked as if she might burst into tears and shook her head. The mark on her left cheek was fresh and red, but Regina didn't point it out.

"What happened, Emma?" she asked.

"N-nothing," the girl lied, looking down and wringing her sweaty hands as her heart raced.

"Emma," Regina said softly. "You can tell me whatever you'd like. You don't have to, but I think it would help if we talked about it."

"I got in a fight. They're going to expel me," she blurted out, tears overflowing from her eyes and burning down her cheeks. "My foster parents will kill me."

"Who started the fight?"

"I did," Emma choked.

"Why?"

Regina's voice stayed calm, but her face expressed her worry.

"This kid called me a dyke. He said I should burn in Hell, so I punched him in the face and then... and then..."

"Then what?"

"I couldn't stop," the blonde sobbed. "I couldn't stop. I just beat on him as much as I could before he grabbed my throat and threw me against the locker and started choking me and hitting me."

Emma gasped for breath as her sobs shook her body.

"They're going to kick me out of school."

"I'll call them," Regina said quickly. "A call from your doctor and they won't be able to kick you out."

Emma, shocked, looked up at the brunette.

"Y-you can do that?" she stammered. "You would do that for me?"

"Yes, of course, Emma! You know I'd never want to see you out of school, and I know how important it is to you that you finish this year."

"I'm so close," Emma cried. "Just a few more months and this year is over. Are you sure this will work?"

"I'm sure," Regina nodded. "I've done it before."

"You have?"

"Mhmm."

Emma's sobbing slowed and the heaving of her chest began to stop as she let out a sigh of relief.

"I'll call them right now," the doctor said, grabbing the phone beside her.

She dialed the number for the school, which she had in Emma's file, and waited for the secretary to pick up the other line.

"Hi. Yes. This is Doctor Mills. I'm calling to speak to the principal, please."

"Alright," the woman on the phone said. "She's actually in her office right now. I'll transfer the call."

When the principal picked up the phone, Regina forced out the sweetest voice she had.

"Hi, Mrs. Kelley. I'm calling about Emma Swan."

"Oh, really." the principal said in monotone. "That's interesting. She got in a fight today. I'm sure you understand the consequences of those actions."

"Actually, that's what I'm calling to discuss," the doctor explained. "Emma has recently gone through a lot of trauma, which is causing her erratic behavior. I also know that this kind of behavior is often the result of school bullying. Now, I'm certainly not saying you'd ever allow that to happen in your school - I'm sure that you have a solid plan in place to prevent such occurrences - but I suspect that this may be happening to Emma, even possibly during school hours. I understand that her actions are inexcusable, but I would like Emma to be exempt from expulsion, given her current medical condition."

"I'm afraid that's not possible. We have a no-tolerance policy for violence at this school."

"I'm sure you understand that expelling Miss Swan would be considered discrimination based on mental health status, and that she would easily win a lawsuit against the school given the circumstances."

"Excuse me?"

"Well, yes," Regina began. "Emma's medical condition makes her less capable of making rational decisions, and therefore, she did not deliberately decide to engage in the violent act, but rather, she was incapable of controlling her impulses. This, in court, would certainly stand up as a reason for the incident. And of course, we have been working on this issue in therapy, but currently, she is still ill, and it does take time to conquer such a problem. I'm sure you understand. Is that correct, Mrs. Kelley?"

"Yes," the principal hissed, gritting her teeth.

"Excellent. Please contact me directly if you have any other issues with her during school hours."

"I certainly will do that."

"Great. Hopefully there will be no more incidents like this for the rest of the school year. I'm happy to report that Emma is certainly making good progress in therapy."

"Great. Thank you, Miss Mills."

"You're welcome."

Regina placed the phone back on the receiver with a smile.

"There," she said. "See? I told you it would be fine. But you have to stay out of trouble, Emma. I can only back you up so much before they're pushed to the breaking point."

Emma looked into her eyes.

"Half of that was bullshit."

"No, it wasn't. You are making progress, Emma. You made progress today."

The blonde reached for the tissues and wiped her eyes.

"I guess you're right," she said.

Regina nodded and said, "We're out of time, but I'll see you on Monday, okay?"

Emma nodded too, grabbing another tissue and dabbing away the last of her tears.

"Put some ice on your bruises. They'll feel better, I promise. I'm sure they hurt a lot."

"I'm fine," the girl muttered, standing up from her seat and making her way towards the door. "Thank you for what you just did. It means a lot. You really saved my ass."

"I would do anything in my power to help you get through this tough time in your life. I hope you know that."

Emma shrugged and left the office.


	3. Chapter 3: A Plan

Saturday and Sunday passed by slowly. The beatings from her parents were inevitable, but less severe than normal. They were happy to know that she hadn't actually gotten expelled, and were also grateful that Miss Mills had been willing to make that phone call, which softened the blows of anger that rained down on her as punishment for getting in the fight. She had refused to tell them how the fight had started, which only infuriated them more. Emma was anxious to see her therapist again, to thank her again, and to vent some of her feelings. She didn't plan to tell her about the beatings at home; she knew she would have to report them.

When Monday finally rolled around, Emma woke up reluctantly and stood in front of the bathroom mirror, staring at herself and hating her reflection. She reached for the scissors in the cabinet and stared down at them. After a few minutes, she lost the staring contest with the sharp edges of metal and put them down, making the difficult decision not to engage in her habit. She looked back up and stared at herself again instead. Tucking her hair behind her ears, she sighed, dreading the day to come. _Please let Austin call out sick today, _she prayed, begging whatever gods existed not to make her face the senior boy who had nearly brutalized her the week before. Continuing the prayer in her head, she gathered her books and her backpack and made her way downstairs where she skipped breakfast and ran out the door to catch the bus, nearly missing it.

Once on the way to school, she sat in the very last seat and put her headphones in - her only solace. As music streamed through the tiny speakers, she shut her eyes and leaned her head back against the window behind her, feeling it vibrate as the bus bounced over each bump. Other than sitting in Miss Mills' office, it was the only moment of peace she could find. Unfortunately, the ride was only 15 minutes long, and she was stirred from her one relaxing moment as the bus screeched to a halt in front of the high school. She put her headphones away quickly - she wasn't allowed to use them in the building, even during the morning homeroom period - and felt her heart start to palpitate. _Oh, God... Oh, God..._

Luckily, she didn't see her bully on the way to her first classroom. She kept her head down for most of the day and sat by herself at lunch, eating nothing, since she hadn't packed a meal. Just as she went to her next class, she ran into the boy in the hallway.

"Well, if it isn't the little dyke. How's your face feeling, dipshit?"

"It's fine," Emma muttered, clenching her fists and resisting the urge to lash out and strangle him.

"Just remember," he hissed, "if you ever touch me again, I'll break every bone in your homo body. Understand?"

Emma swallowed her pride and nodded, keeping her head down. Austin laughed and, to Emma's surprise, left her alone, making his way to class without another word. She was thankful she didn't have any classes with him; she couldn't bear to look at his stupid face any longer, and she didn't know how long she could resist fighting him. But something inside her longed to please her doctor, to try to make her proud. Something kept her from acting out, from giving in to her instincts. She knew if she did, her therapist would be greatly disappointed. Not to mention, like the woman had said, Regina couldn't only fight the school administration for so long.

For the rest of the day, she stayed silent and, as usual, did not participate in any class discussions. She did, however, complete all of her homework during her study period. At the end of the day, she was more than relieved to hear the bell ring. She took the bus to her doctor's office and sat anxiously in her seat, her heel tapping up and down as she waited for her therapist to call her into the office. When Regina appeared in the doorway to the waiting room, Emma breathed a sigh.

"Hi, Emma," Regina said, smiling as they walked down the hallway together. "It's good to see you."

"It's good to see you, too," Emma said earnestly.

"Is something the matter?" Regina asked sincerely, a look of concern on her face.

"No," Emma said. "Yes."

She looked confused.

"No."

Emma's head was spinning.

"I mean, I don't know. I like coming here," she confessed.

Regina smiled and said, "I'm glad. I want you to feel safe and comfortable here."

"I do. I just... It feels weird. I... I have no one else to go to, and it makes me depressed."

The doctor nodded.

"I understand that. I had _zero _friends when I was your age. I don't even have many now..."

The woman trailed off, and Emma looked intrigued.

"Why not?"

"I suppose people don't find me very likable."

"I do," Emma said softly.

"Thank you, Emma," she said with sincerity. "I appreciate that."

"I'm just being honest."

"And I appreciate your honesty."

A smile curled Emma's lips upwards slightly as she looked into the doctor's eyes.

"Thank you for everything you've done for me," Emma said.

Regina nodded.

"I still feel like I'm letting you down. I feel like you don't think you can trust me."

"I... I do, I guess..." Emma told her. "I just have a hard time trusting anyone. But you're the only person who hasn't let me down yet."

"Do you expect me to let you down?"

Emma nodded weakly.

"I understand that, too," Regina said. "I think that's a natural feeling to have when you've been betrayed so many times. How many foster homes have you been in?"

"Too many to count," she said, but Emma knew, and Regina could tell she was lying. "I guess I'm just not very likable. None of them wanted me."

"I don't think that had anything to do with you, Emma. I think it had to do with them and their own problems. The foster care system is greatly flawed. You know that. You're not the one messing up. It's them. I know how it is. I used to do social work for the foster care system, and I saw all too many parents who were careless, neglectful... abusive..."

Emma looked down, swallowing hard.

"Emma," Regina said softly. "Do they abuse you?"

Emma shook her head, but Regina knew this didn't mean 'no.' It meant that Emma knew she couldn't tell without having them reported.

"When you're ready, you can tell me anything."

The blonde nodded and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. She stayed silent, so Regina decided to speak first.

"Do you want to talk about something else?" the doctor asked.

Emma shook her head.

"Alright," Regina said. "I have something I wanted to talk to you about, though."

"Okay," Emma mumbled.

"When I did social work, we used to take the kids out and do things, and a lot of times, that made them feel a little bit more normal. Do you think that's something you'd like to try this Friday?"

Emma looked a little surprised as she thought about this, but she nodded her head weakly.

"But I'm not a kid," she said sternly.

Regina looked into her eyes.

"I know you're not, Emma."

They stayed quiet for a moment, sitting in mutual understanding.

"What would you like to do?"

"I don't know. What kind of stuff did you normally do?"

"Well, with the younger kids, we went to the movies. With the older... individuals... we sometimes went shopping, or bowling."

"I've never been bowling," Emma told her.

"Really?"

"Yeah. I'd like to try it - if you don't mind, I mean."

"Of course!" Regina said, smiling. "That sounds great. I'll pick you up here and I'll drive us over?"

"Yeah. That sounds great, actually."

"Alright. Our time's just about up, but I'll see you on Friday."

Emma left the office smiling.

She decided not to tell her foster parents what the plan was - just in case they didn't approve. The idea of doing something special with Regina somehow filled her with excitement. The woman was right. It was finally something normal she could do without being judged or stared at by her peers. Hopefully, she wouldn't see anyone she knew there, but she knew that if she did, Regina would be with her, which quieted her fear. For the rest of the week, she looked forward to their session.


	4. Chapter 4: One Touch

Friday couldn't come soon enough. The week seemed to drag, but when the day finally came, Emma's heart raced all through the school day with excitement. She wasted no time jumping off the afternoon bus and rushing to her the therapist's office, even running up the stairs to the waiting room. She waited anxiously again, this time filled with anticipation.

"Hey!" she called, waving at the doctor when she appeared in the doorway.

"Ready?" the doctor asked, holding her car keys with a smile.

Emma nodded and eagerly followed the woman back down the stairs. They climbed into the car and Regina looked over at Emma, who was sitting in the passenger seat, grinning from ear to ear.

"I've never seen you look so happy," the therapist commented. "Did something happen? No, wait. Let me guess. Did you get a new puppy? A kitten? A car? Did you win the lottery?"

Emma shook her head and laughed.

"I'm going bowling tonight with my favorite therapist."

Regina smiled softly, appreciative of the fact that Emma was so exited to spend time with her.

"Emma," she giggled. "I'm your only therapist."

"But I'd never want any other."

"Play some music for me," Regina suggested with a smile. "Let's hear whatever you like. I always like to know what kind of music my patients are into. A person's music choice says a lot about them. It doesn't matter what it is. You can play anything."

Emma picked a few songs, and Regina was surprised to find that they were incredibly diverse, ranging from Demi Lovato to Atreyu and Disturbed. All the way there, they conversed about anything and everything - except, of course, Emma's real problem. They still hadn't breached that barrier yet. When they arrived at the bowling ally, Emma hopped out of the car and clapped her hands excitedly.

"I can't believe I'm finally going bowling!"

"It's not that big of a deal," Regina laughed. "It's just throwing balls at a bunch of bowling pins."

Emma giggled.

"You said balls."

Regina shook her head and rolled her eyes.

"C'mon. Let's go inside."

Regina paid the entrance fee for the two of them, and they quickly changed into bowling shoes.

"It's kind of gross how many other people have worn these," Regina commented.

Emma just shrugged.

"We're only going to be wearing them for a few hours."

They'd decided to do a double session - two full hours - so they'd have enough time to play more than one day.

"Alright," Regina said, walking over to the rack of bowling balls and picking one up. "I do this a lot, so don't be intimidated if I'm... you know... relatively good at this."

Emma grinned, hoping the brunette would mess up and eat her words - which she did. Gutter ball on the first try. Regina's face turned red and she covered her face with her hands.

"That was pathetic," she groaned. "It's only cause I'm pressured since you're watching me! Whatever. Your turn!"

"Aww!" Emma giggled. "I make you nervous!"

Grabbing a bowling ball of her own, she carefully swung her arm and let it go on the up swing as she watched it travel down the wooden ally. She only knocked out a few pins, but it was better than Regina's throw, and that was enough to make her smile.

"How was that?" she asked.

Regina smiled back at her and said, "Pretty good, kiddo! Nice work!"

Emma's smiled dropped instantly.

"Don't. Call. Me. That."

Regina looked a little taken back, but she nodded in understanding.

"I'm sorry."

Emma shrugged and watched as Regina threw another bowling ball down the lane. This time, each and every pin was knocked over.

"Holy shit," Emma said, gaping at her.

"I told you. I've had practice. You'll get better, too."

Emma frowned but tried again, this time knocking down a few more pins than the last time.

"See?" Regina asked, sitting in the seat and marking down Emma's score. "Better already. Just keep trying."

With a nod, Emma grabbed another ball from the rack and held it out to Regina, who smiled at her. As she took the ball out of her hands, their fingers touched, and Emma felt an involuntary shiver shoot down her spine. With just one touch, Emma completely melted. When Regina walked away, Emma blinked a few times, suddenly staring. Her eyes stopped on Regina's ass and her mouth fell slightly open as she stumbled slowly back into her seat. Again, Regina knocked over ever pin. When the woman turned around, Emma immediately shut her mouth, which she had only just noticed was hanging open. Instantly, her gaze shot back at the paper beneath her hands as she marked down Regina's score.

"You're up," Regina said, smiling.

Emma felt her insides shudder.

"What's the matter?" the doctor asked, tilting her head slightly to the side.

"N-nothing," Emma stuttered, standing up and quickly grabbing another ball, carelessly tossing it down the lane.

All the pins fell over and were pulled back by the machine. Emma's jaw dropped again.

"Whoa," she mumbled.

"Wow!" Regina said, clapping. "That was awesome!"

Emma blushed at the compliment and sat back down as soon as Regina stood up to take her turn, again staring as Regina bent over ever so slightly and tossed the ball. They played two more games - Regina only won the first two - and then it was time to go. Reluctantly, Emma unlaced the shoes and gave them back to the employee, collecting her own and putting them back on.

One they were in the car and Regina had turned the key in the ignition, Emma muttered, "I don't want to go back home."

"I know," Regina said softly, touching her shoulder.

Another shiver went down Emma's spine as she averted her eyes away.

"I'll see you Monday, though. It's not so far away."

"I know, but I hate the weekends, because I have to be with them. But I hate school too. I hate everything."

Regina sighed.

"Emma." She reached over and gently lifted the girl's chin, saying, "It's not all bad."

"Yes, it is."

Even Regina doubted the truth in her own words. For Emma, almost everything did seem to be looking down.

"I know. But you can be strong. I know you can."

"I can't," Emma said, starting to cry.

"Have you been cutting, Emma?" Regina asked quietly, putting her hand back on the girl's shoulder, making the girl's heart race.

Emma shook her head and said, "Not since I've started seeing you."

This brought a smile to her doctor's lips as she shut her eyes briefly in relief.

"I care about you, Emma. I don't want to see you hurt yourself."

"I know."

"You don't have to do it. There are other ways to handle your pain."

"Like what?"

"Like talking about it."

"I have no friends," Emma blurted out. "I have no one but you."

"You'll make friends as you get older. Once you're out of high school, everything will change. Do you want to go to college?"

"I don't know," Emma answered, sniffling. "I can't pay for it."

"There are scholarships," Regina told her. "What do you want to do for a job?"

"I... I kind of want to do what you do, Regina..."

It felt weird to Emma to be saying her first name, but Regina had asked her to, so she knew it was okay. Still, the intimacy of it was strange.

"Do you want to be a therapist, or do you want to do what I did with social work?"

"I guess I'm not sure. I want to help kids like me - kids in foster homes."

"Well, doing what I do now pays a little more - which isn't why I do it - but social work is a very fulfilling job. On the other hand, I'd say that working with children in the foster care system is very difficult, given that a lot of the situations end up being very sad and hard to deal with emotionally. That's why I stopped. It broke my heart. Granted, this job has a lot of that, too - for example, people like you who are in the foster care system and are having a hard time with it - but it's not quite as severe."

_My case is, _Emma was thinking. _If only you knew what they do to me. _But she said nothing.

"I don't think I'd be good at it," Emma said. "I'd let the kids down."

"No, you wouldn't, Emma. You'd be caring and devoted to your job. I can tell. That's just part of who you are."

"I guess so."

"Trust me, Emma," Regina said, subconsciously placing her own hand on top of the girl's. "I know you can do it. You should keep going with school."

"Okay," she mumbled, looking down at their hands, her heart stopping.

When Regina noticed where she'd placed her hand - she hadn't done it on purpose - she quickly pulled it away, blushing, and put her hand back on the steering wheel.

"I'll drive you home," she said quickly, pulling out of the parking lot and heading towards Emma's house.

Emma sat in silence, feeling the phantom pressure of Regina's hand touching hers.


	5. Chapter 5: The Breakthrough

They had a few more normal visits in Regina's office, and a month went by without any serious incidents. However, on the fifth of November, as soon as Emma sat down in the large, comfortable chair, she burst into tears.

"I fucked up," she cried. "I fucked up."

"Emma," the doctor started, genuine concern flooding her face. "What happened?"

"They beat me."

She lifted her shirt enough to show her darkly bruised rips, tears pouring down her cheeks. When she pulled the shirt back down, she tugged the sleeves of her sweater up and showed her therapist the freshly carved cuts.

"I couldn't help it. I couldn't stop myself."

"Emma... Emma..."

"You can't tell. You can't."

"You know I have to. You know that. I'll lose my job. Besides, why would you want to stay with those horrible people?"

"Because the next ones will probably be worse!"

"But what if they're not? What if they're okay and you can get through this?"

"If they move me, I'll never graduate. They'll hold me back again."

"We'll figure it out, okay? I have to tell. I promise it'll be okay. We'll find you a good home, and everything will be okay."

Emma couldn't control her sobs as she gripped the tissue box in her hands, her knuckles turning white.

"You can't tell."

"I have to."

"PLEASE don't!"

Emma was nearly screaming.

"Emma, relax. It's going to be okay. I promise. I _promise_."

"You can't promise me that!"

Deep down, Regina knew this was true.

"Help me," Emma sobbed.

"I will," her therapist promised. "I will, but you have to stop cutting. You can't keep doing this to yourself."

"I can't stop."

"You have to, Emma."

"No, I don't. You can't make me do anything."

"I'm not trying to force you. I'm not telling you. I'm asking you. Please, Emma. Please. For your own safety."

"I don't care about my safety," Emma said quietly. "I really don't care."

"I do," Regina told her.

"I don't care," Emma repeated.

"Emma, please. Please understand that this is terrible for you."

"It's the only way I have to cope."

"It's not. You can talk to me, sweetie. You can tell me anything you want to."

_Sweetie? _Regina scolded herself, turning just a little bit red from embarrassment, but not commenting on or apologizing for the statement. Hearing the name, Emma blushed and felt her heart begin to pound loudly - so loudly, in fact, she wondered if Regina could hear it from where she was sitting.

"I know," Emma said. "But you're not there when all this is happening. I only see you twice a week. They beat me almost every day."

Regina felt her eyes well up with tears, but she knew she had to stay strong - for Emma.

"We're going to get you into a good home, and everything is going to be okay." Emma stayed silent, so Regina continued with, "This is a breakthrough, you know. You're finally opening up."

Before she left the office, Emma had dried her tears.

Another month later, Emma was in a new foster home, and Regina had been mostly right. There were three other foster siblings who bullied and beat on her, but the parents were decent. They had no idea that the bullying was going on, so they didn't know to stop it, but Emma refused to tell. At least it was much less severe than her previous home.

"Emma," Regina said. "I think you should tell them what's going on."

"But I'm not going to."

The therapist sighed, knowing she wouldn't win the battle.

"Why don't we go on another outing?" Regina asked. "Would you like that?"

Emma nodded slowly but blushed, thinking of their last adventure at the bowling ally and the way their hands had touched.

"I'd like that a lot," Emma muttered.

"Alright then. We'll go on Monday. What do you want to do?"

"Let's go shopping. I've got a job now, so I have a little bit of money, and I need new shoes."

She lifted her legs off the floor to show Regina her tattered Converse sneakers, which were worn through with holes.

"My feet get wet whenever it rains," Emma said nonchalantly.

Regina bit her lip, feeling pity flood her heart.

"Alright. Shopping sounds great. See you next week then?"

Emma nodded weakly and smiled.

On Monday, Emma showed up with a new bruises. Regina reached out to touch the ones on her arms, the pressure from her fingertips even lighter than the weight of a rose petal. Emma looked away as Regina's fingertips brushed her skin.

"I wish I could help you through this," Regina sighed.

"You are," Emma told her seriously.

They didn't say anything else as they got in the car and drove to the mall. When they arrived, Regina got out of the car quickly, and as Emma packed up her iPod and grabbed her purse, Regina went around to the passenger's side and opened the door for her.

"After you," she said, smiling.

Emma blushed and got out of the car. They made their way to the front entrance and as soon as they were inside, they both looked around, marveling at the size of the building.

"It's been a long time since I've gone shopping like this," Regina told Emma.

The girl nodded and said, "Me too. It's been a while since I've actually had any money."

"Let's go find those shoes, huh?" Regina said cheerfully.

Emma nodded with a smile and they walked up to the map in the middle of the food court, looking for the locations of any shoe stores.

"This one," Emma announced, pointing at the picture of one of the stores.

"Okay."

On the way to the other end of the mall, they stopped at a few stores. Regina picked a few girly ones and dragged Emma inside as the girl groaned in protest.

"Oh, come on. It's not that bad."

"Yes, it is," Emma retorted, but she followed the woman inside anyway.

"Smell this," Regina said, spraying a little perfume on a small sample card.

"Actually, that's... um..."

Emma blushed, her cheeks turning red as she imagined Regina wearing it as she leaned in and kissed her neck, smelling the floral sweetness when she moved closer. Snapping out of her fantasy, she felt her blush grow.

"That's really nice," she mumbled.

"Good!" Regina cried triumphantly, bringing a medium-sized bottle of it up to the register and paying for it as Emma waited patiently beside her.

They also went into a few stores Emma liked, stopping in front of one with a tower of body jewelry.

"I want my lip pierced," Emma told Regina, smiling thoughtfully.

"I think that would actually look really good on you," Regina said, nodding her head.

This made Emma smile as she reached out and touched the plastic case, staring longingly at the inside.

"Why don't you?" Regina asked, noticing the yearning in the girl's eyes.

"I don't know, actually. I guess it's because my foster parents wouldn't approve. All of them have been pretty strict."

"Oh," Regina said, biting her lip. "I'm sorry."

There was a pause as Emma's arm dropped back to her side.

"But hey," Regina started again, "you'll be out of there soon. You're almost 18. Less than a year and you'll be able to do whatever you want."

Emma smiled at this, for once feeling hopeful for her own future.

"Will I still be able to see you?" she asked, suddenly concerned as she looked into Regina's face.

"Of course!" Regina assured her, putting her hands on the girl's shoulders. "Of course you will."

Emma smiled again, feeling grateful for this.

"Will you go with me when I get it pierced?" she asked, to which Regina nodded.

"Sure."

Before they left the store, Emma bought a leather bracelet and some black eyeliner. When they finally reached the shoe store - after a few more stops - it took seven tries to find the right pair. The employee looked pretty pissed, but she was courteous nonetheless. When she finally found the right ones, Emma looked down into the mirror and grinned at the black skate shoes.

"They're perfect," she sighed happily, making her way up to the register to pay for them.

"I like 'em," Regina told her with a smile.

"Good. Me too."

After they were done shopping, a couple stores later, they ended up in the food court.

"Are you hungry?" Regina asked, looking at Emma.

The girl shrugged and answered, "I could eat."

When they chose one of the food shops and placed their order, Emma looked at Regina.

"Let me pay."

"No way," Regina said, shaking her head.

"Let me pay this time. You paid for bowling."

"It's not a date, Emma. I'm your therapist. I'm paying."

Suddenly, Emma felt her stomach drop. _Right, _she was thinking. _She's right. It's not a date. She's your therapist. Just your therapist. _But she couldn't help the disappointment that washed across her face. Luckily for Emma, Regina didn't notice this.

"I'm still paying," Emma mumbled, shouldering her way in front of the brunette and sticking out a wad of money for the cashier, who took it quickly and gave her back her change and her receipt.

"That's not happening again," Regina scolded her, frowning.

"Says you," Emma retorted.

"Emma!"

"What?"

"It's not appropriate for you to pay."

"So what?"

"So... So, it's not okay!"

"I don't care, remember? I don't give a fuck. No fucks to be given."

Emma opened her arms to demonstrate that there were, in fact, no fucks in the area.

"Alright," Regina sighed. "Okay."

Emma smirked as they sat down to eat, pleased at her triumph. Still, painful dismay boiled over in her stomach. _You're sick, Emma, _she told herself. _She's just your therapist._


	6. Chapter 6: I Can't Tell You

**Author's note: A reader expressed some concern about the last chapter, given the patient-therapist relationship. If this bothers you, now is a good time to stop reading. This is a work of _fiction_. I respect the relationship between patient and therapist as being sacred, so this is _just_ a story - a crackfic. That being said, if you're still hanging in there, I appreciate it, and I hope you enjoy the read!**

* * *

"What's on your mind, Emma?" the therapist asked.

"N-nothing," the girl mumbled, staring down at her new shoes as she sat in the woman's office.

"You can tell me the truth," she said. "You should know that by now."

"Yeah," Emma said. "I know. I just... Not about this."

"Why not?"

"Because."

"Will you tell me what it has to do with?"

Emma shook her head and kept staring at her feet.

"Can I guess?"

Emma thought for a moment, then nodded.

"Alright. Your foster parents?"

Emma shook her head.

"Your foster siblings?"

Regina was careful not to refer to them as parents or siblings, since she knew it upset Emma. After all, they _weren't _her real parents or siblings.

"No."

"Okay... School?"

Emma shook her head again.

"Have you been cutting again?"

"Yes, but that's not it."

"Emma," her doctor sighed. "You've got to stop. Please... Please stop."

Emma shook her head for the third time.

"I don't want to."

Regina rubbed her eyes and nodded her understanding.

"Is this about your real parents?"

"No," Emma answered, surprised at the guess. "Why would you think that? I never talk about them."

"That's exactly why. You never talk about them, so I figured that might be why you feel like you can't talk about them now."

"That's not it."

"I give up, Emma," Regina said softly. "I'm out of guesses. Will you please tell me?"

"No."

Emma kept her eyes down, ashamed.

"Wait..." Regina looked up at Emma, who wouldn't look at her. "Is this about me?"

Emma looked startled as she lifted her head, not having expected her therapist to guess correctly. She wasn't sure what to say, so she just nodded.

"Are you embarrassed to tell me something?" she asked.

Again, Emma nodded, too nervous to speak.

"If this is about me," Regina said, "you should tell me."

"I know," Emma told her. "I just can't."

"Why?"

"Too embarrassed."

"What if you write it down?"

Regina handed her a clipboard, a blank piece of paper, and a pen. Emma looked at the clock. Ten minutes left. With some reluctance, she began to write in red ink.

_Regina,_

_This is so fucked up. I don't know how to say this. I know you need to know, but I'm so scared to tell you. I'm incredibly embarrassed, and I don't know what to do. So here it is: I have a crush on you. No, that's not right. It's more than a crush. It's... I don't know. It's just... more. I wish I could explain, but I just can't. I've never had feelings like this before, not for anyone. You're the only one who has ever cared for me as a person, exactly as I am, even with all my flaws. This is so awkward. I don't know if I can come back this week after this. I don't feel like I can show my face here again. I'm so ashamed to be saying all this. When your hand touched mine when we went bowling, I just kind of knew I was in over my head. I didn't know what to do, and it's only gotten worse since then. At the mall the other day, when you told me it wasn't a date, I knew it wasn't, but it hurt to hear you say it. I wanted to pretend... I wanted to live in some alternate reality where you care for me that way too. I... Our time's up. I have to go. I don't think I can come back. I don't know if I can do this. This is why I've been cutting lately. I can't control my feelings. I can't control how I feel about you. I can't swallow it. I can't get past it. I'm so fucked up. I need serious help. I'm sorry. I'll call you if I decide to come in on Friday, but I don't think I will. This is just too fucked up. I can't deal. I'm sorry._

_Emma_

Silently, Emma handed her the piece of paper and stood up, gathering her things and reaching for the door's handle.

"I'll see you Friday, Emma," Regina said, looking at her with seriousness in her eyes.

Emma said nothing and left the room, fighting the urge to run down the hallway.

Once Regina had read the letter, she called Emma, but the girl did not answer the phone. Instead, Emma ignored the call and stayed in her bedroom after school, moping. Even though Emma had told her she wasn't coming that Friday, Regina left her schedule open and kept waiting for the phone call. Just when she didn't think it would come, on Thursday, her cell phone rang.

"M-Miss Mills?" Emma stuttered into the phone.

"Emma! God, I'm glad you called. I've been worried about you."

"Can I still come in tomorrow?"

"Of course you can, Emma. Of course you can."

"Alright," she said. "I'll see you at four."

"Do you want to do a double session and go to the movies? That way, you only have to talk if you want to."

"That sounds good," Emma agreed, relieved.

They both hung up, and Emma sat anxiously on the bed, thinking about the events the next day would bring. She fell asleep with her heart racing.

The next day, after school, she was even more nervous. When she finally reached her doctor's office, her hands were shaking.

"Emma," Regina said softly, this time greeting her as soon as she walked in. "Ready?"

Emma nodded and walked out to Regina's car.

"What are we going to see?" Emma asked.

"Anything you want."

"Let's see what's playing when they get there."

"Sounds good," Regina told her, flashing her a smile.

They drove the rest of the way in silence. They chose a horror movie - Emma's favorite genre. Regina paid for the tickets and Emma paid for the popcorn and drinks. They found a seat in the theatre about fifteen minutes early. Emma felt awkwardly close to her therapist, their arms nearly brushing as they sat next to each other.

"You okay?" Regina asked quietly as the ads played on the screen.

Emma nodded nervously.

"It's okay, Emma," Regina whispered. "It's a totally common thing for a patient to have feelings for their therapist. It happens to a lot of people."

Emma looked at her, her face stern and serious.

"You're discounting my feelings as some kind of lame transference."

Regina was surprised to hear her use the actual psychology term.

"That's all it is, Emma. It's just transference. The feelings will relax soon. You'll see. It's really not a big deal."

"It's a big deal to me, and it's not fucking transference."

"Alright, Emma," Regina said, sighing. "Alright."

They were quiet for a few moments before Regina spoke again.

"Then tell me what's making you feel this way."

"I don't know," Emma sighed. "You're flawless. You're funny, you're sweet, you care about me... You're... You're beautiful..."

Regina couldn't help but blush. She reached up to feel how warm her own cheeks were and was surprised to find them hot.

"These feelings will pass."

"I doubt it," Emma said, looking away.

Regina took Emma's hand in hers, giving it a little squeeze.

"It's really okay. Don't be embarrassed, alright? I understand."

Realizing what she'd just done, she pulled her hand away.

"You don't," Emma snapped. "You have no fucking idea what this is like."

Regina sighed and nodded weakly, looking back at the screen as the lights dimmed and the film started. For the first half of the movie, they didn't look at each other, even once. But as the film grew more gruesome, Emma nearly jumped out of her seat as she grabbed Regina's hand. But the woman didn't pull away. Instead, she gripped Emma's hand tightly and looked over at her.

She leaned in, whispering in Emma's ear, "It's okay. I'm right here."

"I'm not scared!" Emma hissed quietly, scowling at Regina but not letting go of her hand.

Regina couldn't help but smile, sensing the lie. As the movie's plot began to slow down a little, Emma looked over at the brunette.

"Regina."

The woman turned and looked into her eyes as she watched Emma lean in just a little bit.

"Please," Emma whispered desperately, tears filling her eyes.

When she leaned in a little more, Regina leaned in too. As their lips touched and moved together, Emma felt sparks fly.

* * *

**That's it, guys. That's all I got for this one (unless somebody has a _great_ idea and wants me to write more). Thanks for reading and reviewing!**


	7. Chapter 7: Leaving the Theatre

The kiss lasted long enough to intoxicate Emma. The rest of the film was a blur of color and light. It was towards the end of the movie when their hands clasped each other. When it was finally over and the room lit back up, neither of them moved. Instead, they watched the credits scroll across the screen until those, too, were finished. Then, at last, Regina turned to her patient.

"Emma," she said softly, waiting for the blonde to look back at her. "We can't do this."

But the doctor didn't let go of her hand. In fact, her grip had subconsciously tightened since the lights had turned back up.

"What did I do?"

"What do you mean, 'What did you do?'"

"What did I do to upset you?"

"Emma," the doctor sighed, releasing her grip on the girl's hand. "This isn't about you. We just... We can't have... We can't..."

"Why?"

"Because it's wrong."

"Why is it wrong? Because I'm younger than you? You're not even that much older than I am. Really, you've just been in school longer."

Regina put her head in her hands and sighed. It wasn't a conversation she'd ever pictured herself having.

"It's not that. It's because I'm your doctor. It's... It's like I'm taking advantage of you and the agreement of confidentiality we have with each other. Therapy is sacred, and this is wrong."

"Am I not pretty enough? Am I not your type?"

"Emma, no. It's not that."

"Is it because I cut?"

"No! God, no. Emma, please, just listen to me..."

"This is bullshit," the blonde said, standing up and gathering her purse and jacket. "I'm out."

"You're acting like a child."

"You're treating me like a child."

Regina looked up, expecting to see Emma turn to leave, but she was still standing there.

"Don't go," Regina said, reaching for Emma's hand, but the blonde pulled away.

"_Now_ you want to touch me?"

As people filed out of the room, Regina looked around. They were the last two in the theatre, so Regina stood up quietly and collected her own things.

"Let me take you to dinner, at least," Regina offered, touching Emma's shoulder as they walked out of the room and back into the theatre hallway.

They made their way to the exit, and it wasn't until they stepped outside that Emma replied.

"No way. Take me back to the house."

"You really want to go back there?"

Emma paused and bit her lip. She stopped walking.

"Come on," Regina urged her. "Let's get something to eat."

With a sigh, Emma followed Regina to the car.

"Where do you wanna go?" Regina asked, looking over at Emma as the girl leaned back in the passenger seat.

"Don't care," Emma mumbled.

With a sigh, Regina leaned over and tilted Emma's head towards her.

"It's not you. It's me. The patient-therapist relationship is sacred. I can't break your trust like that. You don't understand. It could really fuck you up."

"Are you fucking serious right now? You're really going to use that line on me?"

"Emma, you're acting like a child, and you're not helping your case at all."

"How do you want me to act? What do you want me to say? It's fine? Gee, sorry I'm falling for you? Sorry you're the only one I trust? Sorry you're beautiful and I can't swallow my feelings anymore? I'll just stuff it down and ignore it?"

"Just hush. You're being dramatic. We're going to my favorite restaurant."

Emma said nothing until they reached the establishment and were seated.

"Are you kidding me?" she hissed. "This is the most romantic place I've ever been. What are you doing?"

"I'm taking you somewhere nice, for once. You deserve to be treated like the princess you are."

The blonde's jaw dropped open, but the waiter approached before she could speak. It was a short blonde girl - beautiful - whose voice was smooth and soft - a little seductive, even. They both stared for a few seconds before snapping out of their trance.

"What'll you ladies have to drink tonight? We have a few specials tonight as well, and-"

"No, that won't be necessary," the doctor said, cutting her off. "We know what we want."

"We do?" Emma asked, a little surprised at the presumption.

"Yes."

Regina ordered for both of them - fillet mignon, the house specialty - and smiled at Emma when the waitress walked away.

"Who said I wanted steak?"

"Just trust me. You've never had anything like this before. You're going to die."

"I don't like steak."

"Seriously?"

"No," the blonde giggled. "But I gotcha, didn't I?"

"Yep. I panicked for a minute there." They both laughed, and Regina shook her head and added, "You're awful."

"You love it. You need to laugh more. It's beautiful."

When the silence suddenly grew awkward from Emma's unintentional flirtation, she decided to speak again, changing the subject.

"Speaking of beautiful, how hot was that waitress?"

"Emma! She's not a piece of meat!"

"Sure she is. Wanna bet I can get her number?"

"Yeah, right," Regina laughed. "You could, but you wouldn't."

"You're right," Emma conceded. "I'd never play anyone like that. Besides, I have eyes for someone else."

"Emma."

The girl went silent, and just then, the waitress came back with their food.

"Be careful," the 'piece of meat' warned. "It's hot."

With a quick, almost flirtatious smile, she was gone, leaving Emma grinning.

"Dare me?"

"No. It's not funny."

"It is, a little."

"Alright," Regina said with a smile. "Maybe a little. But don't. It's not nice. You know you're not going to call her."

"How the Hell do you know?"

"Because I know you. You're not confident enough to put yourself in a relationship. You'd be laying too much on the line. Besides, you feel like you have things to hide, and as long as you feel that way, you'll never open up to anyone."

"Ouch."

"Wait, don't take it that way. I just meant..."

"I opened up to you."

"I'm sorry."

Regina's eyes dropped to her plate.

"Eat," the doctor urged, nodding towards Emma's plate. "I promise you'll like it."

Emma found that the woman was right, and as soon as she'd taken the first bite, her eyes closed in ecstasy.

"Oh, my God."

"I know, right?"

Regina couldn't stop herself from grinning, and when Emma finally opened her eyes, she couldn't help but swoon.

"Thank you," she mumbled, "for taking me here."

"You deserve this. You deserve to be treated like this."

"You said I deserved to be loved, too."

"I know."

"Then why don't you?"

Emma's gaze found Regina's.

"Emma."

With a moment of hesitation, Regina reached out and took the girl's hand. When Emma pulled away, she grabbed for it again. This time, Emma just stared at their hands, as if something was about to happen to them.

"Please tell me you feel this," the blonde begged. "I feel like a fool."

"You're not a fool."

"Tell me."

"I can't do that."

As Emma dropped her head in her hands, tears formed in her eyes.

"Don't cry, sweetie," Regina whispered, leaning in and touching her shoulder.

"Don't touch me."

"Emma."

When the girl finally opened her eyes and looked at Regina, the doctor grabbed her face, pulled it closer, and kissed her lips.

"I'm sorry," she told Emma. "I just-"

"Can't do this," the blonde interjected. "I know."

"No," Regina said. "I was going to say that I just can't help myself."

She kissed the girl again, this time slipping her hand around the back of Emma's neck to hold her closer.

"I do want this, too," the doctor whispered as she pulled away.

"We should save this for later," Emma said, smiling at last. "We're in public."

"I don't care. I just want you."

"Why do you want me?"

"You bring out feelings in me I've never felt before. Things I can't explain. Things that make me drunk with... with..."

"Love?" Emma asked, desperately hopeful.

"Yes," Regina agreed. "Love."


	8. Chapter 8: Snap Out of It

**WEEKS BEFORE**

"Come on, Regina," the doctor said to herself, voice cracking. "Snap out of it. She's seventeen."

She brought her hand up to slap herself, but realized the childishness of the move and decided against it, instead falling to her knees beside her bed, clenching her fists and screaming until her lungs burned. Sobs shook her chest as she grabbed a pillow and clutched it tightly.

"Please, please let this pass," she prayed through the tears. "Just let this pass."

She fell asleep crying leaning against the side of the bed, her head resting on top of the pillow she was still clinging to.

**THE NEXT THERAPY SESSION**

"Why don't you think you're worth it?"

"I'm a freak. I'm a cutter. I don't deserve someone special. Anyone worth my love doesn't deserve to have a fuck up like me as a lover."

"Don't you think everyone deserves love and someone that cares about them?"

"Not me. I don't."

Regina sighed and rubbed her temples.

"You're worth more than you know. Your cutting doesn't make you a freak."

"Why are you saying that?"

"Because it's true, Emma. Nothing you could do could make you deserve to be alone. Everyone deserves someone special. Everyone deserves to be treated right."

"What if they don't treat others right?"

"Well, they should. But that doesn't mean they deserve to be alone. Sometimes all people need is someone to truly care about them in order for them to turn their lives around."

"You think if Austin had a girlfriend he'd stop being a bully?"

"Perhaps."

Emma scoffed and shook her head.

"I hope that fucker rots in a hole forever."

"I can understand why you'd be angry at him. I'm not surprised you wish him ill will."

The girl went silent, biting her lip as she pondered this. Suddenly, she felt guilty. Deep down, she wanted to be the bigger person. She wanted to let go of everything she held inside.

"I want to stop hating him," she confessed, looking away from her therapist.

"That's good, Emma. That will take time, though. Forgiveness is a difficult path to walk down, full of discouraging obstacles. It's hard to fight the bitterness."

"Obviously, you've been through this. Who'd you have to forgive?" Emma asked boldly.

"Myself."

"I don't get it."

"I had to forgive myself for some things I've done that were very, very wrong."

Emma laughed at this, leaning her head back and resting it against the back of the chair.

"I seriously doubt you could do anything wrong, Miss Perfect."

"No one is perfect, Emma. No one."

"And I'm as far as they get."

With a sigh, her doctor replied, "You don't have to be perfect. You can just be you."

"But I hate me."

"Why?"

"I told you. Because I'm a fuck up. No one else loves me. Why should I love myself?"

"Because you deserve it. Finding the people who love you - your chosen family - is a lifelong process that takes patience. You have to encounter the people who persecute you first, and the people who will let you down. You'll find the ones who will come through for you eventually."

"How do you know?"

"Because it's how life works, and life can often be cruel. Do you feel that way?"

"Yes. And it's unfair."

Regina nodded in understanding. Having seen tragic situations like Emma's over and over again, she knew that life was far from easy. In fact, she often wondered how a god, if there was one, could be so savage.

"I know."

"I just want someone to love me," Emma said, her voice cracking as she reached for the box of tissues on the glass table between them. "I want someone to care about me, but nobody does."

As the tears began to fall, Regina felt a knot form in her own throat.

"I care about you," Regina said softly.

She wanted to reach across the table, to touch Emma's hand, to tell her everything would be okay, but she held back, respecting the boundaries between them.

_Don't, _she scolded herself. _Don't touch her._

But the desire burned within her, called to her, begged her to give in. _I just want to hold her. _She wanted to scratch her own eyes out, to kill this piece inside of her that urged her to confess her love. But the flame would not die; it burned hotter each hour that passed between them, with each tear Emma shed.

"Everything is going to be okay," Regina promised. "It's all going to work out.

Emma didn't know what to say. Part of her wanted to believe her therapist, to trust her words, but the frozen part inside of her refused to give in to her longing.

"It's your job to say that," Emma sighed. "No one could ever care about a piece of shit like me."

Regina's thoughts begged to be released. _I care so much more than you know. _When their session was over and Emma stood up to leave, she could see the pain in Regina's eyes, even though she refused to believe that that was what it was. It couldn't have been. It wasn't possible. But still, she prayed it was true, that the doctor really cared, and that she wasn't alone.

**THAT NIGHT AT EMMA'S**

Emma laid on her bed clutching her pillow to her chest, feeling grateful to finally have a room to herself. In every other foster home, she'd been forced to share a room - sometimes even with boys - boys with no boundaries or self control. Her eyes squeezed shut as the last bit of sunlight snuck in through the window, stinging her eyes as the warm tears formed beneath them.

"She doesn't care," Emma whispered to herself. "She's doing her job."

_But if that's true, she's doing it well. _She felt the choking sobs suffocate her, locking her breaths inside her lungs. The harder she forced them down, the more they burned, pressing up against her ribs, bringing waves of pain. She strangled the pillow as the stifled sobs came out as a coughing fit, releasing the flood that streamed down the side of her face. Emma rolled onto her side. Her face grew red with anger, the bitterness squeezing her heart.

"Emma!" the voice of her foster mother called up the stairs. "Time for dinner!"

Quickly throwing the pillow to the side and leaping off the bed, she rushed to the bathroom and splashed a wave of cold water over her face to cool her cheeks and wash the tears of torment from her eyes. Her shoulders were slumped as she made her way down the stairs, her hand sliding down the railing as she struggled to hold herself up under the weight of the stress and agony of disappointment.

"What's the matter with you, punk?" her foster brother sneered, sitting down in front of his place at the table.

"Long day. What do you care?"

"I don't," he laughed.

"Jason," the mother scolded. "Leave Emma alone."

The girl breathed a sigh of relief. When they were all seated, the father, sitting at the head of the table, spoke next.

"Who wants to say grace?" he asked cheerfully, looking around at the 'family.'

"Not me," one of the boys mumbled, reaching for his fork and folding his pile of green beans into his mashed potatoes.

"Put the fork down," the mother scolded. "We're saying grace."

When no one else spoke, she took the initiative to continue and reached for the hands of the girl and boy beside her as the rest of the 'family' joined hands as well.

"Lord, thank you for the blessing of this food and this family, and thank you for the rest of the blessings we each have in our lives. Please bless us all with kindness and humility and let us love each other as God would have us do." After a pause, she said, "Amen," and the family was free to eat.

Emma picked at her food, barely eating, even though it was more of a meal than she was used to having. Somehow, regardless of the fact that she hadn't eaten yet that day, her appetite was missing. As soon as she reached her bedroom after finishing the meal and being excused from the table, she let the rest of the tears fall, soaking a spot on her pillow.

**THAT NIGHT AT REGINA'S**

"I don't know what to do, mother," Regina sobbed into the phone. "I don't know how to stop this."

"It's simple!" the woman snapped into the receiver. "You terminate the relationship immediately and never speak to her again. How can you be having such a difficult time with this? What's gotten into you?"

"I think I love her."

"That's RIDICULOUS!" her mother screamed, slamming her empty coffee mug on the counter in her kitchen. "The girl is seventeen! She's a minor, for Chrissakes! Regina, what are you thinking? Do you want to lose your job?"

"I can't stop this," she cried, laying on her side on the bed as she clutched her pillow to her chest.

"Of course you can. And you will. You'll break it off the next session you have, and that's all there is to it."

"I can't. I can't let her suffer this alone!"

"So get her another therapist! She's not your problem!"

"I care about her."

"That doesn't matter. Love is weakness, Regina, but even so, what you're feeling isn't love! It's infatuation!"

"But what if it's not? What if this is real? What if she's the one?"

"The one?" Cora cackled. "You're pathetic."

"Alright," the doctor conceded. "I'll end it."

But at the next session, as soon as she saw the girl's bright eyes, the windows to her broken heart, she knew she couldn't let go.


	9. Chapter 9: You

**THE PRESENT**

"Don't make me go back there," Emma whispered as they walked back to the car.

"Where am I supposed to-"

"Anywhere. I don't care. A shelter. Anywhere."

"A shelter? Emma, I would never."

"Where else do you suggest?"

"You can't run away."

"Yes, I can."

"You have to graduate," Regina said. "You're so close. You can't give up now!"

Emma sighed and looked away.

"I know," she replied. "Just don't make me go back there. At least not tonight."

The sudden realization passed through Regina's mind as she finally understood.

"I can't bring you home with me. It's completely-"

"Why are you fighting this so hard? I know it's what you want."

"You are what I want."

"Then take me home."

Regina sighed too.

"Okay. Come home with me."

As they pulled out of the parking lot, Emma hid a smile.

When they arrived at Regina's apartment - an elegant space in an elegant building - Emma followed her up the stairs, suddenly feeling nervous. Regina sat down in the living room and watched with a smile as Emma awkwardly stood in the doorway.

"Lock the door behind you, please," Regina requested, "then come sit with me."

Emma sat down, feeling nervousness she hadn't before, and looked over at her new lover.

"I'm sorry," the doctor said softly, reaching over and tucking some of Emma's hair behind her ear. As she dropped her hand, she stroked Emma's cheek. "I'm really sorry. I should have listened to you. I'm just trying to do the right thing."

"Maybe this is the right thing."

Regina nodded.

"I think it might be."

"Either way, you have to commit to something. You have to decide. Don't play with me."

"You," Regina said, this time without hesitation. "I choose you."

"What changed your mind?"

"My heart. It hurts when I think of letting you go."

Eyes softening, the blonde leaned in and kissed the woman's lips, softly and slowly. While the kiss deepened, Regina found her hands moving up and down Emma's sides.

"I can't believe you're actually here. That I can call you my sweetheart."

Emma rested her forehead against her lover's and smiled.

"Your sweetheart?" Emma giggled. "That's cute."

"I want to be with you."

"Then be with me."

They shared another passionate kiss before Emma pulled away.

"I want you to show me you love me."

Looking confused and surprised, Regina asked, "How?"

"Make love to me."

"What?" she gasped, leaning back and pulling away from her grip.

"Make love to me."

"I..."

Regina's heart raced, but she leaned back in. Thinking herself a coward, she kissed the girl's lips. Her shaking hands moved south towards the hem of Emma's shirt, and she lifted it over her head, staring at the bare skin she saw there.

"Are you scared?" Emma whispered, moving her hands up and down Regina's arms.

The brunette nodded to confirm what Emma could already see, but she didn't move away. Instead, she removed her own shirt - slowly, in an attempt to be seductive - and watched Emma's expression as she undressed. When she unhooked her bra, she had to draw a quick breath to keep her hands from shaking as she dropped the garment to the floor beside the couch. As she leaned over Emma, she could feel the palpitations making her shiver.

"I want you," Regina whispered back, reaching down to undo the button of Emma's jeans.

"Take me, then."

Feeling her panties dampen, she sped up her pace, tugging Emma's jeans and underwear down past her ankles. Emma reached up to undo Regina's jeans, too, performing the same service of removing them quickly and tossing them to the floor. As Regina's fingers slowly slipped inside, Emma moaned, and the noises grew louder with each stroke and thrust, until she came, whimpering Regina's name.

The two fell asleep on the couch, arms around each other, whispering in each other's ears.

Emma cried out in her sleep.

"Don't... No... Don't!"

Regina woke with a start, immediately pulling her lover closer.

"Emma?"

Emma's eyes shot open and her eyes filled with tears.

"What's the matter, baby girl?" Regina asked softly, stroking her hair.

"Dreams... Dreams..."

Regina looked confused, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she kissed the girl's forehead and held her close.

"I'm here, honey. I'm here. Do you want to tell me what happened?"

Emma shook her head, burying her face in the brunette's neck. As she did, it seemed as though she was burying the world, blocking out her troubles and replacing them with warm, pulsing love.

"Don't let me go, okay?"

"Of course I won't," Regina promised. "And it's okay if you ever want to talk about it."

"I don't want to talk about it. I want to cut."

"Emma, baby... Please. Just let me hold you."

The sound Emma made was somewhere between a sigh and a groan of agony.

"Just make them stop."

"What?"

Regina looked confused as she gazed into Emma's eyes, searching for the answer. What Emma searched for in return was understanding.

"The dreams. Make the dreams stop."

"How often do they happen?"

"Almost every night."

Regina nodded and started to sit up, but Emma held her close.

"Don't."

"Okay, baby. Okay." Gently, Regina touched their foreheads together and kissed her nose, saying, "I'm not going to leave you. You're not alone in this."

"I feel alone," Emma confessed sadly, looking away from her new lover.

"You don't have to feel like that anymore. I won't leave."

"Everyone leaves."

With a sigh, the brunette shook her head, causing her bangs to drop in front of her eyes.

"You will," Emma insisted.

"Emma, stop it. You can't know that. You have to trust me."

"I don't have to."

"But you do. I know you do. Keep trusting me."

With reluctance, Emma agreed and kissed Regina slowly, making the moment last.

"Let's go back to sleep," Regina whispered, kissing her lover's cheek.

"I can't."

"Shh. Emma, it's okay. I'm gonna be here if it happens again."

"It will."

"Don't be stubborn, baby," Emma's lover said softly, trying to suppress a smile. "Just relax. Take deep breaths, and think about something you love."

"I..."

Regina placed a finger over Emma's lips.

"Just think."

Reluctantly, the blonde shut her tired eyes and thought of the most important thing in her life, the only thing she seemed to be living for.

"I thought you were going to hate me when I told you," Emma said quietly, still closing her eyes and keeping her thoughts on what she loved.

"I could never hate you."

"You don't know that. Anyway, what if someone else told you the same thing?"

"Then I'd tell them exactly what I told you, at first. That it's okay to feel that way, but it's just transference. It's natural to have those feelings for your therapist."

"You wouldn't get pissed?"

"Of course not. They're just feelings. It's perfectly normal."

"But you wouldn't... I mean..."

"You're the first person I've ever felt like this for, Emma."

The darkness pulled them closer together as they both realized how cold it was in the room.

"Jesus," Regina said. "It's freezing. Why don't we get in bed where it's warm?"

"I'm fine on the couch. I'm used to it."

"Come on, kiddo."

With a grin, Regina scooped Emma into her arms and carried her into the bedroom, which was significantly warmer, and put her under the blankets.

"Holy shit," Emma breathed, looking around. "First of all, this is a beautiful room, and second of all, this is the most comfortable bed I've ever been in. I wish..."

"Not yet, Emma."

She stroked the girl's blonde locks of hair and kissed her forehead, laying down beside her, both of them still mostly undressed. Emma pouted, trying to roll over onto the side to face the wall, but Regina held her against her chest and kissed her forehead and cheeks, again and again, until the young woman was giggling and playfully trying to push her away.

"I've never been this happy. I don't want to go back."

"It's going to be okay. You're almost done with school. In a few months we'll be able to... to..."

"What?"

"To really be together."

"What if people find out?"

"The only people who would know are your foster parents, and we both know they don't care enough to keep tabs on you after you leave. Foster parents aren't all bad, but the way it usually works out, kids don't see them again once they leave. Sometimes it's different, but in this case... I think we're safe."

"What if they did find out? What if they reported you?"

"Well, at this point, I've terminated our professional relationship. So technically, you're not my patient, but because you were... I could lose my license to practice..."

As Regina trailed off and thought about this, she felt her heart grow heavy.

"I don't want that to happen to you."

"I don't either. This job means the world to me. I don't know if I could really do anything else. It's the most fulfilling thing in my life. Everything else is empty. Even being with my family leaves me feeling empty. The only thing that's ever lit up my life like that is being with you."

"Well, that's certainly a self-esteem boost," Emma laughed, trying to brush off the suddenly emotional moment.

"Emma... I don't want to lose you, either."

Emma laid back against the pillows and sighed.

"So you've got to stop cutting. If you slipped... If you cut too deep... I could lose you. Forever."

"I know. I just don't care that much."

"Please, Emma."

"I'm not making any promises."

"I'm not asking you to promise. Just try for me."

"I'll try not to, but I'm not promising."

"I wish you cared."

"Well, I don't."

"Don't you have _anything_ you want to live for? Isn't there anything?"

"You."


	10. Chapter 10: Back to School

The next morning, Emma woke to Regina shaking her shoulder, holding out a plate of chocolate chip pancakes, complete with a side of warm maple syrup.

"What's this?"

"Breakfast, silly girl. What else would you call it?"

"Sweet. I'd call it sweet. No one's ever made me breakfast before."

The smile that played at Regina's lips lit up Emma's eyes, making the girl's heart swell as she took the plate and slowly started to eat.

"Jesus, babe. This is amazing. You're a great cook."

"I do what I can," she giggled with a shrug, sitting down beside Emma on the couch. "I'm not sure I'd call it 'amazing,' but I appreciate the compliment.

"Why are you doing this?" Emma asked, suddenly looking concerned as she set the plate down on the coffee table.

"Because you deserve it, sweetheart. I know you don't understand that yet, but someday I hope you will."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that you're worth much more than you think. I know it doesn't feel like it, because of the way you've been treated, but I promise you it's true. You're special - to me, especially."

"That's some bullshit if I've ever heard it."

"You think so?"

"Yeah, I do. Psychologists are all full of shit."

"Hey!" Regina cried. "I thought you trusted me."

"I do," Emma sighed. "I'm sorry. I just... This is hard for me, especially when I feel you pulling away from me. It makes me feel... Nevermind. Just forget it."

"Talk to me."

"Fine," the blonde sighed. "It makes me feel worthless - not good enough."

"You are good enough. This just scares me too. But I'd rather lose my job than lose you."

Emma looked surprised as she straightened her back, her muscles tightening. She looked at her lover.

"You mean that?"

"Why else do you think I'd bring you here?"

"To play with me? To fuck me?"

"I didn't bring you here for that! I brought you here because I feel something with you I've never felt with anyone else. And I brought you here because I trust you. Should I not?"

"Of course you should."

"Then trust me, too."

"I do trust you."

Emma pulled the woman close and kissed her lips.

"You taste like chocolate," Regina giggled, licking her own lips.

"Sorry," Emma mumbled, a blush of embarrassment rising to her cheeks.

"No, I like it."

Regina gave Emma a gentle smile.

"Alright, sweetie. You gotta get up now. Time for school."

"Are you serious?"

"Of course I'm serious. You need to be serious, too. It's not a game, Emma. You need to graduate."

"I know," the blonde sighed, looking defeated. "Can I borrow some clothes?"

"Sure, but you're not gonna like 'em."

The two went through Regina's closet together, trying to find something Emma would tolerate.

"This stuff would only look good on you. I'd look like a clown."

"I think you'd look nice in this," Regina said, holding up a light blue buttoned shirt.

"You're kidding. It's school, not a job interview."

"It's business casual," Regina laughed, nudging the girl's shoulder. "Come on. Just try it, and if it looks stupid, I'll tell you. I promise."

Emma agreed and disappeared into the bathroom for a shower. Once out of the steaming water, she tried on the shirt and stared at herself in the mirror, unsure of what to think. It certainly wasn't her style, but she did look professional - not that that was what she was going for. Emma was hoping for casual, but everything Regina owned was way too nice for her to feel comfortable in.

"I look silly!" Emma called out from the bathroom, nervously wringing her hands as she stood in front of the door.

"Just get out here and let me see!"

With a shaky sigh, Emma reappeared. The shirt hugged each of her curves, and the first two buttons that weren't done up showed off her pale neck and cleavage. It accentuated the softness of her features in a way Regina had never seen before. Usually, it was jeans and a T-shirt, but this look... this look she liked even more.

"You look gorgeous," the brunette told her. "Stunning, really. Please don't take it off."

"Don't you have a T-shirt for Chrissakes?" Emma groaned, covering her face with her hands.

"Maybe," Regina said with a smirk, "but I'm definitely not letting you have it now. You look way too good in that for me to let you wear anything else."

"Oh, come on! Just give me the goddam T-shirt!"

"I'm afraid I can't do that."

The brunette was still grinning, her arms crossed over her chest as she watched Emma's anxiety rise. It wasn't that she enjoyed watching Emma squirm - okay, maybe a little - it was just that she knew she was right. The shirt did look damn good on her.

"We gotta go. You're gonna be late."

The two rushed out the door, and Regina threw the car into drive, knowing Emma would be punished with detention if she was late. On the way, she looked over at the girl several times before speaking.

"What are you going to tell them?"

"Who?"

"Your foster parents."

"Shit, man. I don't know. You think of something."

Regina thought hard but ended up in the same place as Emma: stuck.

"I don't know either."

"Yep," Emma said. "I'm fucked."

"At least they won't-"

"Don't," the girl interjected, looking sternly at Regina. "You don't know that."

"Well they haven't yet, right?"

"No, but their kids have."

"What do they care where you were last night?"

"They'll find any excuse to beat on me."

Emma rubbed her eyes as they pulled up in front of the school.

"When can I see you again?" the blonde asked.

"Wednesday. I'll pick you up here."

"Why not tomorrow?"

"Because they know you don't have an appointment with me tomorrow, and they'll wonder where you are if you leave."

"I guess you're right," Emma conceded, pushing a hand roughly through her hair. "I'll see you Wednesday."

Emma kissed her lover's cheek and exited the car looking hopeless and depressed. As Regina pulled out of the parking lot, she felt the same way.

**LINE BREAK**

"Hey, fag."

The bully's arms outstretched and shoved Emma's shoulders, sending her backwards into a locker. Her back hit the iron wall with a crash as the locker doors behind her slammed shut.

"Just leave me alone, Austin."

"Excuse me?"

"I said leave me alone."

But Emma barely looked serious. Instead, her face was weary with exhaustion from the emotional effort of getting through the day. Her thoughts were elsewhere, back in the apartment with her former therapist. She barely snapped out of her trance, even when the boy shoved her again.

"Just get it over with," she sighed, leaning her head back against the locker, holding very still.

She expected him to wind his fist back and bring it crashing into her face, but he just stared at her.

"What the Hell is wrong with you?" he asked anxiously. "Aren't you going to fight back?"

"No."

"Well, that's no fun. I guess I'll catch you later, dyke. You'd better watch yourself."

Emma said nothing. Instead, she made her way to her next class and sat quietly, barely listening to the teacher as he lectured.

"Miss Swan," the man at the front of the class called out.

She lifted her head, looking away from the page below her pencil where she had doodled a picture of a dragon setting fire to the school.

"Yeah?"

"Can you tell us the name of the benefactor of Pip in Great Expectations by Charles Dickens, the book we're currently reading in this class?"

"Not really."

With a sigh, the teacher pointed to the door.

"Get out, Emma. Go to the principal's office and report for detention after school. Next time, pay attention in my class."

She silently gathered her things and left the room, knowing there was nothing good waiting for her in the office. Surprisingly, though, they gave her very little flack. She sat quietly in the office until the bell rang, then made her way to detention. Given that she wasn't allowed to work on homework, Emma sat with her head on the desk, picturing her lover and the time they'd spent together the night before.


	11. Chapter 11: Hey, Beautiful

"Hey," a girl whispered, leaning in closer to Emma. "You okay?"

The blonde's eyes shot open, startled at the sudden sound.

"What?" she stammered. "Oh, um, yeah. I'm fine."

"You look really upset."

"Well, I'm not exactly thrilled to be here."

"Girls!" the teacher snapped, slamming a ruler down on the desk. "That's enough! I want silence!"

Swallowing hard, the two nodded their heads in understanding and stayed quiet. Emma's head rested on her arm once more as she stared at the wall. When the clock finally struck three-thirty, Emma lifted her head and let out a sigh of relief. As she stood up to leave, the other girl gently grabbed her arm.

"Hey, seriously," she said softly. "Are you okay?"

"Fine. Thanks."

"What happened to your face?"

Emma reached up and touched the bruise on her cheek, thinking back to the altercation that had caused it.

"Nothing. I'm fine."

"I hate to press, but it really seems like something's wrong."

Emma was thankful that the girl kept her voice quiet, avoiding the possibility of making a scene, but she certainly wasn't thankful for being put on the spot. What was she supposed to say? The truth?

"My foster brother hit me. It's nothing, though, really. I'm okay."

"You're pretty tough. I can tell."

"Nah," the blonde protested, shrugging her shoulders. "I just don't care enough to be fazed by it anymore."

"I'm Belle," the girl introduced herself. "What's your name?"

"Emma."

"You're a senior?"

"Yep."

"I'm a junior. I guess that's why I don't know you."

"Yeah."

"So why were you in detention?"

"You ask a lot of questions," Emma commented, looking the beautiful girl up and down. "I wasn't paying attention in class. My teacher called on me, and I didn't know the answer, because I didn't do the homework."

"Sorry," the girl mumbled, lowering her head. "I was just curious."

"Nah, it's okay. Really."

"So why didn't you do the homework?"

"Dickens."

Emma hated Charles Dickens and all of his writing.

"Ah, I see," Belle said with a smile. "Understandable. Do you like reading anything else?"

"I kind of like Jane Austen."

"Me too!" the brunette cried cheerfully, smiling at Emma. "She's wonderful."

"I guess I just like her spirit and sarcasm. Her characters are all really entertaining. Dickens, though... I just can't stay engaged enough to keep myself awake."

"I could help you, if you wanted."

"What?"

Emma tilted her head.

"If you want help, I can help you. I'm a pretty good student, and I've read most of his work already. What are you reading?"

"Great Expectations."

"Ugh," Belle groaned. "That's horrible."

"So why'd you read it?"

"I had to for an advanced English class. It was painful."

"Good for you for getting through it. I can't stand the damn thing."

"Well, I guess it's just discipline. I try to get into the story as much as I can. Anyway, do you want help studying?"

"Actually," Emma said, "that would be great. I have a test coming up on Tuesday that I really haven't studied or even read for."

"If you read the book, I'll help you get through it. How far are you?"

"Chapter two..."

"Oh, my. You've got quite a ways to go then. Don't worry, though. It does pick up a little as you go along."

"You sure?"

Belle nodded.

"Not that it's actually _good _or anything, but it's definitely better. I'm sure you'll be able to get through it, at least."

"Okay."

"So are we on?"

"Definitely."

"Meet me after school on Friday and we'll go over however far you've gotten?"

"Sure. That sounds great."

Actually smiling, Emma left the room feeling a little less alone.

* * *

The next day, Regina picked Emma up from school.

"Hey, beautiful," she greeted her with a smile. "How was school?"

"It was alright. I didn't get beaten up, so I guess that's a plus."

"Oh, honey... I wish there was something I could do. It's almost over, though. You just have to wait it out a little longer."

"I know."

They both sighed as Regina pulled out of the parking lot.

"So, where do you want to go?"

"Anywhere, as long as I'm with you."

"You're such a sap," Regina giggled. "Anyway, did anything exciting happen at school today, or did it just suck?"

"Actually, this girl I met in detention offered to help me study for my English test for next Tuesday."

"That's great, Emma! You're making friends."

"She's not my friend. She's just really nice."

"Is she a senior too?"

"No, she's a junior."

"She pretty?"

"Regina!" Emma cried, looking over at her. "What the Hell?"

"I was just asking."

"I talk to one girl and you're jealous?"

"I'm not jealous! I was just curious is all."

"It's not like she'd be interested in me anyway. No one would be."

"I am."

"Well, you're crazy," the blonde laughed, shaking her head as she leaned back against the headrest.

"Maybe so," Regina conceded, "but I'm crazy for you."

The girl couldn't help but smile at this, a slight blush rising to her cheeks.

"And you say I'm the sap?"

"Let's go back to the house. I'll make you dinner."

"Are you sure? I'm not that hungry."

"Have you eaten today?"

"What?"

"Have you eaten?"

"Well, no, but that's not the point."

"You're eating. That's all there is to it."

"Alright," Emma mumbled, crossing her arms and leaving them that way until they arrived at Regina's place.

Once sitting on the couch, Emma felt a wave of relief wash away the majority of her anxiety, allowing her to enjoy the woman's company.

"You okay?" Regina asked, sitting down beside her with a cup of hot chocolate.

"Actually, I'm good. I'm here."

With a smile, Regina leaned in and kissed the girl's lips.

"I wish you could stay," she sighed. "I don't want to take you home."

"I don't want to go home."

"We'll just have to enjoy the time we have, I guess."

Regina stood back up and made her way to the kitchen. Every few minutes, she peeked into the living room to check on Emma, momentarily watching the girl as she sat on the couch watching television. Regina savored her presence and continued to check that she was living in reality until the meal was almost finished.

"Sometimes I can't believe this is really happening," the woman said from the kitchen, continuing to prepare dinner as she waited for Emma's response.

"I know," Emma said, standing up and walking over to stand beside Regina. "Can I help at all? I don't like just sitting around."

"No, sweetie. I'm almost done."

"What are we having?"

"Roasted chicken."

"Wow. Seriously?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I'm just not used to be treated to dinner like this. You're too good to me."

"No, I'm not. You deserve it."

"I don't."

"Stop it. Just listen to me, okay? You deserve this. You're my princess."

Emma blushed and shook her head.

"You're ridiculous."

"I know," Regina said with a smile, "but you love it."

"Maybe."

Emma grinned back at her and sat down on a stool at the counter, resting her chin in her hands as she watched Regina navigate gracefully around the kitchen. Cooking seemed to be her forte, which didn't surprise Emma.

"Here, try this."

Regina popped a piece of chicken into her lover's mouth, watching her reaction. Emma was practically drooling.

"'Gina, this is amazing. You're such a good cook."

"Thank you, dear. I've been practicing a long time."

"You know what they say," Emma commented. "Practice makes perfect. Unless it's me. I can't cook for shit. I burn everything."

"I'll teach you, then. It just takes time."

"Hopefully you're right. I want to be able to make you dinner someday."

"You don't need to do that. I like cooking for you. I like knowing you're well-fed."

"You're taking such good care of me," Emma sighed.

"I want to take care of you. You deserve it."

"Thank you..." Emma trailed off.

As Emma wrapped her arms around her lover, Regina held her tightly, burying her head in the girl's neck.

"I love you, Emma," she mumbled against Emma's pale skin.

"I love you too."


End file.
